Simon Duffy

Thoughts, Bemusements & Arguments

Tag: neoliberalism

Equality – The Kind That Really Matters

or why status is not a zero-sum game

This essay jumps headfirst into a complex debate which deserves a more careful set of introductory comments. However, I am pressed for time, and so I merely want to offer a few philosophical thoughts in response to some of the practical work that I’ve been involved in over the past few months.

The limits of reasonable income inequality

One of the most important political philosophers at the end of the twentieth century was John Rawls. He asserts:

All social values – liberty and opportunity, income and wealth, and the bases of self-respect – are to be distributed equally unless an unequal distribution of any, or all, of these values is to everyone’s advantage. (A Theory of Justice p. 62)

In principle Rawls offers us what appears to be a highly egalitarian starting point for social justice. However, in practice, the publication of his A Theory of Justice, his ground-breaking work in political theory, coincided with the end of a moderately egalitarian period in the political development of English speaking countries. Since the 1970s income inequality has grown significantly in the UK, USA, Canada and Australia and governments of all colours have abandoned any serious effort to promote income equality as a social goal. I am not blaming John Rawls for the collapse of egalitarianism and the rise of neoliberalism – but it is a curious coincidence.

The principle that Rawls is most famous for advancing, a principle that arises logically from the assertion above, is the maximin principle: Social arrangements should be so organised that the position of the worst off (the min) should be as high as possible (the max) and that if a certain level of inequality makes such an improvement possible then – only to that limited extent – such inequalities would be justified.

As someone who studied Rawls in the 1980s I remember this as a convincing theoretical position. How could I as an egalitarian resist a level of inequality that improved the position of the worst off? However looking back today I wonder what real effort we made to distinguish Rawls’ position from the idea of trickle-down economics: Let the rich make as much money as possible in the hope that the poorest would benefit – for a ‘rising tide lifts all boats.’

It turns out, if we examine the data of the last 40 years – as I did recently – this is a forlorn hope. It is very clear that growing inequality has not improved the position of the poorest, nor even overall economic growth. In fact, in the UK at least, as inequality increased so have the incomes of the poorest fallen. What is worse, because it is clearly intentional, is that the political system further reduced the incomes of the poorest by policy changes that were highly regressive. In fact we’ve stolen from the poor three times: First by allowing greater economic inequality; second by redistributing money away from the poor by political policy; third by pouring scorn and stigma on the heads of the poor through shameful political rhetoric.

Rawls’ argument was equivalent to saying: Poison sometimes improves our health and so we should sometimes be willing take poison. For, in fact, all medicines are also poisons – what is critical is to take exactly the right amount of the poison if you want the beneficial impact. However instead of taking care to find the correct dose of inequality we’ve been swallowing inequality by the bottle and declaring our overdose success.

Meanwhile, if someone did identify the sweet spot for a legitimate level of inequality, then I guess I missed the news.

Instead of careful efforts to limit and control inequality in the interests of poor we’ve seen trickle-down economics rise unchallenged as the economic philosophy of our time. Instead of attempts to quantify the minimum level of inequality necessary to lift the incomes of the poorest we’ve seen a number of other more dangerous arguments and assumptions rush to fill the vacuum in Rawls’ argument.

For instance, some argue that the economy needs a free labour market to efficiently allocate resources to promote the skills necessary for the economy: If we need to pay an extra £10,000 to get the right doctor, an extra £100,000 to get the right CEO or an extra £1,000,000 to get the right football player, then we must do so.

This kind of free market argument seems quite persuasive, if we don’t think too hard. After all this seems precisely the kind of reason why Rawls might allow us to release the hounds of inequality from their leash: To incentivise better performance and recruit people for essential skills – whether they be medical, commercial or athletic. But a moment’s thought must make us wonder whether we’re confusing the good of the worst-off with the good of a particular community:

  • If we need more doctors, don’t recruit doctors from Africa or Asia (where they are needed even more) to come to Europe (where we have plenty already and could certainly train more).
  • If your company needs a better CEO then train one, don’t bribe someone to leave their current job by simply offering them more money than they get now.
  • If you are a fan then you may be happy that the wealth of your team allows you to poach the best players from other teams. But none of this adds to the quality of football.

Incentives may offer a different kind of argument: There is surely a case for rewarding people for good work and discouraging people from doing bad work. But very low levels of inequality leave plenty of room for incentives. Good work is surely what we want everyone to do as a norm and inequality makes it harder to reward good work when everyone is working well.

In fact I think the case could be made that what is more important than positive incentives is the possibility of failure. Failure is what makes all forms of progress possible. Systems that makes failure impossible or too expensive are systems that do not develop and improve. The failure of state socialism in Russia was not an excess of equality, it was an excess of security, where rigid economic structures didn’t adapt to changing circumstances. (One of the arguments for basic income, which I support, is that it would make economic failure, and therefore improvement, much less risky.)

Another weak argument for inequality, but one that is heavily relied upon by advocates of inequality, is that economic goods (let’s call this wealth) are not created in a zero-sum game. If you are not familiar with the idea of a zero-sum game let me try and explain what this means:

Chess is a zero-sum game. I can win and you lose, you can win and I lose or we can draw. We can’t both win. Some things in life are much more like chess: winners are matched by losers. Zero-sum games can only redistribute a finite (fixed) amount of resources. Land is finite and hence the distribution of land is a zero-sum game.

Not everything is a zero-sum game. For instance, education is not a zero-sum game (unless you’re doing it very badly). Everybody can learn, and if I develop some ability at Latin, I do not reduce your ability to understand Latin or anything else.

Whether economics is a zero-sum game is a critical question, but also quite complex. When we look at the economy from some perspectives then it can seem a zero-sum game. For instance, the UK’s recent Coalition Government increased VAT, increased income tax thresholds and cut benefits. The combined impact of these changes was to reduce the incomes of the poorest 10% (6.5 million people) by 9% and to increase the incomes of those on middle-incomes. Government redistribution like this is, in the short-term at least, a zero-sum game.

Not all economic change is like this. If people begin to find new ways to organise things then this may increase the overall amount of wealth. Better farming techniques can improve productivity overall. Industrialisation and technology can increase the availability of useful products. These changes are much more like educational changes, new ideas and technologies change how we do things to make more possible.

However, sadly, these transformational changes, that certainly do accelerate economic production, are also associated with the greater levels of social injustice, uprootedness and insecurity. Often they led to riots, rebellions and revolutions. So, while such economic growth can potentially benefit the many, it usually seems to benefit the few, especially in the short-run. We are discovering the same today as global businesses and technologies demolish old ways of working, accelerate inequality and reward socially irresponsible behaviour.

I think this means that economics is not quite a zero-sum game; but neither are most economic goods infinite. Distribution remains a critical issue, especially for obviously finite goods like land and access to basic resources (like water, food, clothing and healthcare). It is also clear that we should be constrained by our respect for the planet as well as the needs of each other.

The evidence that economic inequality is good for us and is justified by its impact on the poor is very poor. In fact we don’t seem in much of a hurry to gather evidence on this matter at all; perhaps we are simply in awe of the power of money and don’t know how to put the dogs of inequality back on the leash. When money can buy public policy and research, as it does today in the UK, there may be few incentives to be honest about the limitations of inequality. Perhaps also, the glaring failure of socialist states like the USSR, has rather blinded us to the obvious success of democratic welfare states, like Denmark, at finding a much better balance of equality and productivity.

The importance of status

One other thing that strikes me, looking back on Rawls, is that most of the discussion about equality has tended to be highly materialistic. Perhaps we should have looked rather harder at what Rawls called the “bases of self-respect” for surely the respect in which we are held, particularly our status as an equal, is of much more importance to an egalitarian than the particular bag of money we happen to be holding.

In fact neoliberals often deploy a version of this argument when they propose that egalitarians are simply promoting the vice of envy: There is nothing wrong with inequality; inequality is helpful and essential; you are simply envious of the better-off and your envy is wrong in itself and damaging in its impact. You’ll drag everyone and everything downwards in your quest for equality.

Now, I think it is rather easy to show that income inequality (perhaps beyond some modest level) is harmful. It is also possible to show that income inequality is controllable – if you want to control it. However I do think there is something to the argument that income is not everything and that there is something worrying about a society fixated on achieving income equality as if that were the most important goal.

True equality does not meant I have exactly the same amount of money in my bank account as my neighbour: It is to live with my neighbour as an equal – for us to value and respect each other as equals.

Moreover the reason that this kind of equality is important is not that my neighbour and I are equal: We are not the same and we do not want to be the same; we are different from each other, along an infinite array of dimensions.

What we seek is an equality of status, of respect; perhaps we could almost say that we seek spiritual, not material, equality. Moreover there is a name for this kind of equality and that name is citizenship. For at least two and half thousand years, and possibly longer, some humans have sought to live together in a community of equals.

One famed example is ancient Athens, the home of democracy, where Pericles once said:

We regard wealth as being something to be properly used, rather than as something to boast about. As for poverty, no one need be ashamed to admit it: the real shame is in not taking practical measures to escape from it. Here each individual is interested not only in his own affairs but in the affairs of the polis (community) as well: even those who are generally occupied with their own business are extremely well-informed on general politics (community life) – this is a peculiarity of ours: we do not say that a man who takes no interest in politics (the community) is a man who minds his own business; we say that he has no business here at all… (cited by Thucydides)

What mattered in Athens was to be a citizen, and as such you had equal status with other citizens. Of course, Athenian citizenship excluded slaves, women and foreigners, but it still offers an important example of a different approach to equality. Moreover, in many ways it was much more egalitarian in its actual organisation and spirit than is a modern democracy. Athenian citizens had much more influence over and involvement in the life of their community than we do today.

And is this kind of equality not a more fundamental kind of equality? We do not want people to be uniform; we do not want lives to be standardised; we should surely not care too much about differences in roles, resources or relationships. Surely, what we want is a world where everyone can flourish, in all their diversity, and where everyone is treated with respect – as an equal.

If you accept this argument then you might think that it gives some support to the neoliberal position: Stop worrying about inequality; stop envying the rich.

However, this is wrong. It is in fact precisely because status equality, not income equality, is the goal of a just society that we actually need to take income equality much more seriously.

At this point I’d like to quote an argument from C. S. Lewis. But we moved house last year and most of my books are still in the garage; so I will try and make his argument from memory. The reason we should take great care to limit the visible and obvious differences between us, like differences in wealth, is not that we are all equal, but that we are all different. It is because of our much deeper and wilder diversity that should ensure that we clothe ourselves as equals. The disciplines of equality exist to help diverse people live in a spirit of equality.

This may seem a paradox, but it is not. We are beings who are each unique and diverse, but who are also each of equal moral worth. In living together we must find a way to appreciate each other’s uniqueness and yet respect each other as equals. We can do this by choosing to live as citizens; that is we can choose to live in a society that honours our shared status as equal citizens. In so far as we discover that certain kinds of artificial differences (like income) can become excessive, that they can threaten our ability to treat each other as equals, then we should restrict or tame those differences. Excessive income inequality does threaten our ability to see each other equals, particularly by stoking the pride and greed of those with the most; but also by encouraging a sense of worthlessness in those with the least. Income inequality is corrosive of most of our virtues and it makes it much harder to live in a spirit of equality.

Status is certainly not a zero-sum game. Societies can exist with very low levels of status; in fact the twin concepts of meritocracy and aristocracy offer us a vision for society where the highest status goes to the ‘best’ and the lowest become the ‘worst’ – the scapegoat, scrounger or outcast. Meritocracies produce very low levels of status overall by using a narrow and highly rationed account of social value. Almost everyone’s a loser in a meritocracy.

Citizenship maximises the distribution of status by equalising that status – everyone can share in it. Moreover society can not only adopt equal citizenship as its goal; it can go further and also seek to welcome others into citizenship. If male Athenians had welcomed women as equals, allowed foreigners to become citizens or abandoned slavery then it would have advanced equal status for all. There would have been no loss of equal-status for male citizens. (I accept that this would have made the category of citizen less ‘special’ within Athens – but this kind of enhanced status is actually a form of meritocracy and is not essential to the kind of true and equal citizenship which I am arguing for). To feel you are an equal and to see others as equals is a real form of non-hierarchical status and it is the best form of self-respect – because it takes nothing away from anyone else.

It is this is inclusive account of citizenship what some of us have been exploring as we develop Citizen Network: How to build a world where everyone is a citizen, where everyone is equal and everyone is different.

How to find justice

So, if we return to Rawls, then I think my argument is that Rawls has made a fundamental error. He forgot that a just society does not start by redistributing resources in order to advance the bases of self-esteem. Instead it begins by commiting itself wholeheartedly to equality, and it does so by establishing equal and universal citizenship as the basic role which everyone can occupy.

Rawls tried to get to equality ‘by going round the houses’ – by focusing on economic goods first – and I think this is connected to another mistake that Rawls makes:

There is no reason to assume our sense of justice can be adequately characterised by familiar common sense precepts, or derived from the more obvious learning principles. A correct account of moral capacities will certainly involve principles and theoretical constructions which go much beyond the norms cited in everyday life; it may eventually require fairly sophisticated mathematics as well. (Rawls, A Theory of Justice, p. 47)

The fundamental problem here is that Rawls is seeking a formula for justice which must be applied to society from the outside. He is not offering us an attractive conception of justice, one towards which we can turn, around which we can rally and one which enables us to build a just society together. Instead Rawls is offering a complex and ambiguous template for ghostly civil servants or philosopher-kings to interpret on our behalf.

If we are not motivated towards justice by a shared conception of justice then no operating principle, however sophisticated will save us: For who is to interpret and implement such a principle? If we do not choose to live as citizens, and if we do not act to build a world for citizens, then we choose to live in a world where inequality is guaranteed.

If we are motivated towards justice then what matters is identifying it, living by it and disciplining ourselves according to its needs. Our fundamental principle must be that we are citizens, we are all equals and that we must welcome others into this world of citizenship.

Equality and the Market

 I like and loathe Twitter; it draws you into debates with all sorts of interesting people and challenges you to make your point as sharply as possible. But it is also frustrating when something seems really obvious, but you can’t convert its truth into 140 characters. There is also a danger that you will be pulled into making ad hominem attacks on people’s character – attacking someone for their failure to understand you – rather than focusing on being clear and truthful.

One recent enjoyable, but also rather difficult, conversation was on the topic of inequality and the market. The challenge began with a video from Mark Littlewood of the IEA who made what I think is actually a fair point: charities who are against poverty should avoid treating inequality as the primary cause of poverty. Western charities can quite often score easy points in this way; yet the actual causes of poverty in a specific country may be influenced by any or all of the following factors:

  • The state’s failure to uphold the rule of law, including property rights
  • Inadequate physical and social infrastructure to enable exchange and cooperation
  • Exploitation by corporations, stealing resources and underpaying people
  • The failure to invest in talents, skills of local people
  • Dependency on Western charitable institutions that don’t create local capacity
  • Too much state control, incompetence or corruption
  • Trade regimes that protect Western farmers or others from competition

This rather random list already reveals that it is a significant mistake to think of poverty as merely a matter of redistribution. It is not. Poverty is also a function of our productivity, of our ability to get stuff done, and this is influenced by many different factors.

This list also reveals how important the role of the state is, even before we come to any question of redistribution. The state, in partnership with the institutions of civil society, is the institution that protects rights, develops and protects vital infrastructure, protects people from exploitation, negotiates trade deals and ensures that markets can function. It is a foolish liberal who underestimates the critical role of the state in protecting the economic institutions they cherish so much.

However in my Twitter debate three false claims also emerged:

  1. Taxes (and benefits) do not thing to reduce poverty,
  2. Poverty is only tackled by the Market, and
  3. The state is essentially unproductive.

These three interconnected claims perhaps mark the point at which liberalism tips into the extremes of neoliberalism). Each claim is untrue, and dangerously so.

Let’s take them in reverse order:

There is no doubt that the 20th century advocates of state socialism were far too confident of the state’s ability to do too many things very well. There are limits to what the state’s can do well. But there are many things that we need the state to do and which are essentially productive. The state and its institutions (e.g. the creation of a valid currency) have been essential to social and economic development. This is demonstrated by examining the causes of poverty outlined above: economic development relies on effective state action. The state and the rule of law it guarantees are fundamental to most forms of human productivity in complex human societies.

At its core neoliberalism seems to be a form of idolatry – the worship of false idols. The market, which is essentially a useful tool (and like all tools limited) has been converted into a false god The Market. Markets make poor gods for many reasons, but primarily because they don’t exist. A market is a space, not a thing; it is a vacuum; it is a space within which human beings trade stuff. Trading stuff is also useful preparation for doing other stuff, like making, healing, building, growing and creating. The market does not do any of those things – people do – but the market helps people by because people can use trade to get the useful things they need from others. Markets can help people be productive, but they are not productive in themselves.

Worshipping Markets is a a bit like worshipping banks. We forget about human effort and ingenuity, we forget about the amazing natural processes that create things, instead we worship the middle-men, the priests and temples of liberal economics.

What is more we forget that, even at their best, markets are rather inadequate and imperfect institutions. We may all rather disagree about the extent and nature of those imperfections, just as we tend to disagree about what perfect means. But some of these ‘market failures’ are pretty obvious. I’ll just give two examples.

First, markets are very bad at organising a sensible and fair distribution of healthcare; because when it comes to healthcare humans are rather irrational. The fundamental problem is that we want to live, and we will pay almost anything to someone who promises to extend our lives, even to the point of impoverishing ourselves. So a free market in healthcare leads to lots of exploitation. That’s why the US system is twice as costly, but no better, than the UK system. Doctors are richer, healthcare companies make more money, but there is no real benefit for US citizens.

Second, markets inevitably increase levels of inequality because the winners increasingly dictate the outcomes to the losers. Anyone who has played Monopoly understands why monopolies are a bad thing. If you start to lose, you’ll probably keep on losing. That’s why we need tax and benefits; that’s why the state cannot avoid being drawn into trying to regulate or control the market for incomes.

Famously, in the 1970s, John Rawls argued that a limited degree of inequality might be justified if it gave people a better incentive to strive in ways that benefited the worst-off. Today this argument has been turned on its head. Some now seem to believe that any degree of inequality is justified because some inequality could provide better incentives. This is bad logic and bad ethics.

Poverty is a function of a failure in both productivity and justice. We need both to flourish in order to end it.

Figuring out what degree of inequality is acceptable and what practical mechanism are necessary to reduce inequality is also one of those practical things that we need the state to do. And this takes us back to the initial worry about extreme inequality. The fact that a small number of people control a great share of our wealth is worrying because it seems those people increasingly define what the state does. The election of Donald Trump as President of the USA reflects a further decline in the quality of our democracies and the growing influence of the wealthy oligarchs who may well believe that their own extreme wealth is good for everyone.

Well they would, wouldn’t they?

Is a Pro-Community Welfare State Possible?

In the space of a few days I’ve been lucky enough to be part of two workshops where we explored the question of how to narrow the gap between public services (the official welfare state) and the community. Each event was inspiring, with stories of exciting innovations that demonstrate the power of community action and the ability of the state, sometimes with a little help, to act as an agent for positive social change. There is a clear appetite for a new settlement, a new kind of pro-community welfare state, one which works in harmony with its citizens, not against them.

Now I know that for many fellow campaigners against the UK’s austerity policies even to discuss these ideas is to move dangerously close to the Big Society Bullshit that has been used as a screen by Government to disguise more than six years of cuts, stigma and increasing inequality. Some believe that the old welfare state was just fine, and that we must go back to the 1945 system; others recognise that all was not perfect, but think that any criticism of the old system, at this time, just provides dangerous ammunition for the new barbarians.

I certainly have some sympathy with both positions. The old welfare system had many virtues which we have lost sight of, including a much greater faith in the ability of officials in the welfare system to make sensible decisions, at a local level. Much of this freedom and flexibility has disappeared as Whitehall has taken over the ‘management’ of the welfare state. I also recognise that the Coalition Government did a brilliant job of covering its tracks. For every vicious cut they imposed there was some wacky new programme (usually funded by the Cabinet Office) that was used to grab headlines and scatter glitter over gaping wounds. We live in a cynical age.

But I don’t think we can hold back from considering some of the fundamental flaws in how the welfare state has evolved over the past few decades. It is particularly important to consider some of the deeper factors, which are much harder to see, but which not only damage the welfare state but also enable the Big Society Bullshit to gain credibility.

The best lies are wrapped around a small nugget of truth, and repeated lies cannot be defeated unless you can share some deeper, stronger and more hopeful truth.

To begin with I think it’s important to remember why we need the welfare state. The welfare state is a compensatory mechanisms that helps us deal with two kinds of inequality: inequality of wealth (income and assets) and inequality of need (disability, illness and age). The more equal a society is in wealth then the less you need systems of benefits, taxes and social housing to rebalance things. However, even if wealth were equal you would still need to deal with the fact that some people will also need further help which they cannot get on their own.

Now it is important to note that this second problem is also linked to how willing people are to do what is right without payment. Inequality of need is no problem in a community that naturally organises itself to meet those extra needs; however in a society where doctors, nurses and social workers want to be paid, and to be paid well, for using expert skills then inequality of need will also require additional welfare systems to ensure these important additional needs are also met.

So the purpose of the welfare state is to compensate, not just for inequality, but also for the insecurity that comes from knowing that you might have needs, and that nobody will be willing to help you meet them without payment.

Now, in the way of a thought experiment, let us imagine that you are the ruler of a community that already has a welfare state; and now imagine that (for some strange reason) you want to destroy the welfare system, but in a way that people won’t notice. Here are some strategies you could use:

  1. Forget about the importance of inequality, spend less on making the poor less poor, but spend more on services instead. In this way public spending will remain high, but inequality will grow. This is what the UK has done, spending about 50% less on poverty now than it did in 1977. In this way, fundamental needs will grow but the system will appear unable to help them. This helps to undermine the whole system.
  2. Encourage inequality within public services themselves. The Chief Executive of the NHS is paid about £200,000 – 50 times more than the poorest 10% of UK citizens who live on about £4,000 per year. Charity chiefs can earn similar amounts (e.g. £175,000 for the CEO of Mencap). In this way the public and charitable sectors can create the inequality that they are supposed to be there to solve.
  3. Make the poor poorer through hidden taxes. For instance the poorest 10% pay 50% of their income in taxes, meaning that their real income is closer to £2,000 per year (about £40 per week). In this way the poor are tricked into paying the salaries of those who should be helping them.
  4. Then create extra taxes, just for those people who have higher needs. This is called means-testing or charging, and it means that if you have a disability you will only get support if you are very poor or if you are prepared to pay the high ‘disability taxes’ imposed by the adult social care system. For this reason many people opt out of the welfare state and start to believe that that the system only exists for ‘them’ (the poorest, the most unworthy). At the same time the poor have to make themselves even poorer just in order to get vital services.
  5. Associate the welfare state with stigma, control and a sense of unworthiness; in this way people will not want to support it, use it or value it. Spending public money on campaigns which suggest people on benefits might be “benefit thieves” has been a highly successful means of spreading fear and mistrust through the general public. Today people believe benefit fraud is rife, whereas it is actually statistically insignificant.
  6. Pretend that public services are inadequate and will be better managed by private sector companies. This has the double benefit of reducing people’s sense of control and faith in the system, while adding to the inherent inequality of public services (frontline workers salaries are pushed down, profits are sucked out, yet senior public officials can now earn more as ‘commissioners’ rather than providers).
  7. Talk about the need for communities to take back control, for citizens to be empowered and then dismantle any of the remaining systems of support. And here we are today – Big Society Bullshit.

Some of you this may think that this is an unduly critical view of public policy over the past 40 years or so; others may think this is simply a restatement of what many others have been arguing for some time – “It’s the workings of capitalism; it’s the ideology of neoliberalism.”

So I’ll end by considering the question of motivation. Who wants to destroy the welfare state and why?

I asked you to consider how you would destroy the welfare state from within. But personally I find it difficult to believe that most of the politicians and the civil servants responsible for the welfare state have really been trying to destroy the welfare state. (But I may be being naive). In my experience (most of) our rulers want to do the right thing, but they do not understand the systems they control and act in order to gain short-term political advantage. Rationality and wisdom is harder to attain in a position of power.

Nor do I think that, for most of this period, greed and corruption by commercial companies has been the biggest factor in the destruction of the welfare state (although I think things have now changed, and it is certainly a significant factor today).

However I do think that shallow thinking has played its part; but I think that state socialism has been nearly as damaging as the kind of narrow economic liberalism that has now been relabelled as ‘neoliberalism’. It we think of people as merely animals, seeking selfish material benefit, then our thinking about the demands of justice and the organisation of society will be utterly inadequate.

So what are the real driving forces that continue to undermine the welfare state? Here are five poisons that I believe are eating away at the welfare state from within. I do not think they are the only corrosive factors at work, but I think they are important internal factors which should be given more attention as we try to think our way out of our current problems:

1. Centralisation – The more that decisions are taken centrally then the fewer the people involved in those decision, the easier corruption and the easier it is for powerful groups to get advantage over less powerful groups. Elites speak to elites, and after dinner comes the contracts, or the increased salaries for senior staff.

2. Meritocracy – The more hierarchical and the less democratic a society then the easier it is for its rulers to believe that they deserve their power, the money (that they award themselves) and their many other privileges. Meritocracy has always been the ideology of aristocracies – ‘we rule because we are the best’. The fact that the best are now the likes of Donald Trump, rather than the landed gentry, is merely a matter of detail.

3. Inequality – The welfare state exists because of inequality, but progressively it has treated inequality as an unavoidable fact, not as a problem that it was designed to tackle. Inequality make the poorest, not just poor, but weak and demoralised. Inequality makes the rich complacent and heartless. Today the welfare state not only fails to respond to poverty, it makes the problem worse by creating new kinds inequalities within public services themselves.

4. Insecurity – The ongoing dilemma for the welfare state, one that can be witnessed in the writings of Beveridge, Marshall and its other early designers, is the fear that the welfare state will give people too much security and encourage laziness or undue dependence. For this reason income security (unlike health security) has always been viciously means-tested. Strangely, as economic insecurity continues to grow in our increasingly global and technological economy, the state now works to increase this sense of insecurity through damaging changes to the benefits system. This toxic insecurity means that if people are unable to find paid work they are then punished if they volunteer or act like a citizen. The need to keep the poorest under control and feeling insecure eats away at the legitimacy of the system and further enables paternalism or bullying.

5. Individualism – The welfare state has been built around a highly individualised conception of the citizen. Family, friendship and community disappear in its gaze; instead bureaucratically defined solutions are offered to mere individuals. There is no role for collaboration, solidarity or cooperation in the modern welfare state, because all of those things move the centre of power towards community and treat the person as a citizen, not as a unit. Atomised we are weak – and that is how the system seems to want us.

The irony is that creating a good welfare state, or at least a much better welfare state, is quite possible. There is nothing inevitable about the ongoing decline of the welfare state. But in order to reverse the current decline we will need to think much harder about the real and underlying problems built into the current system itself.

Some of these problems cannot be solved by ‘policy’ (encouraging our rulers to have better ideas). The solutions we really need are constitutional, they require rethinking the fundamental structures of our democracy and our society. Unless we are prepared to do that thinking and begin advocating for more fundamental changes the legacy we were handed by our grandparents and great-grandparents will wither and die on our watch.

Gangster Economics

Economics emerged as a moral science, an attempt to understand how to advance justice and the wellbeing of all. The word comes from the combination of two important Greek words:

  • Oikos – which means family, family property or the family house
  • Nomos – which means law, order or justice

Today economics is treated as merely a social science, and as with all social sciences, the assumption that there is a moral order and that justice is a fundamental reality has faded. This is very much to the disadvantage of the science. Without moral imagination economics becomes lost in its own self-made world of artificial principles and models. It tries to predict rather than to guide us towards what is right. It becomes a servant of the powerful and of economic power in particular, rather than an advocate for economic justice.

It is striking that one of the founders of economics, Adam Smith, was a moral philosopher and that, his original vision was certainly very moral. For instance, Smith wrote:

“This disposition to admire, and to worship, the rich and the powerful, and to despise, or, at least, to neglect persons of poor and mean conditions… is the great and most universal cause of the corruption of our moral sentiments.”

Smith is responsible for helping to found the most powerful and well known of economic theories, economic liberalism; and while there have been some other important innovations in thinking and practice over the years, this approach – which stresses the importance of individual free choice in promoting good outcomes – has been resilient. Most economic theory is merely a footnote to liberalism.

It is a sad irony that the ideas of a man who often stressed the rights and freedoms of the poorest is now often cited to support the policies that harm them. In the UK, Government’s of both Left and Right, have turned justice on its head and acted as if we exist to serve the market, not the other way around. Advocates of justice often use the term liberalism, or its variant, neoliberalism to define the nature of their moral error.

This marks a decline in the meaning of the world liberalism that is also bitterly ironic. Originally being liberal meant to be free or to be lavishly generous. There is nothing liberal about the meritocratic, mean-spirited elites who rule our country today.

In fact I think that when we criticise the current Conservative Government, or the previous Coalition or New Labour Governments, as ‘liberal’ or ‘neoliberal’ we are in danger of flattering them. There is nothing liberal in their policies – in either sense. They do not enable more people to be free and independent, they do not encourage generous giving or secure welfare. They are illiberal, reducing freedom and increasing inequality and poverty.

How then should we characterise their economic policies if they should not be called liberal? I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I think I’ve come up with the right name. We are living through an era of Gangster Economics, where the purpose of economic policy is to reinforce the power and wealth of a small group by exploiting the poorest and bribing the powerful.

Think how gangsterism works. First you must exploit the poorest, using fear and violence, while ensuring that no powerful forces of resistance can arise from within the exploited communities. Compare this to a range of current Government policies:

  • Benefit cuts, sanctions and workfare brutalise the poorest
  • Regressive tax increases (poorest 10% now pay 50% of their income in taxes) milk them
  • Legal aid, trade union rights and the right of charities to protest have all been weakened
  • Asylum seekers, immigrants, disabled people and the poorest are stigmatised and insulted

The second phase of gangsterism is to protect the gangster’s field of operation, to ensure that nobody will come to the aid of the poorest. In 1920s America this was achieved by bribing the police, the mayor and by threatening jurors. In the UK today such bribery and pandering takes a somewhat subtler forms.

  • Tax and benefit policy is designed to benefit swing voters, to keep the elite in power
  • Honours and contracts are distributed to political donors, charities and commercial interests
  • The commercial media is courted, the independent media is undermined

For instance, during the Coalition Government taxes and benefits were both changed so that the poorest 10% were hit more harshly than any other decile. Their income, which was already only £40 per week after tax, was reduced by a staggering by 9%. At the same time the incomes of some middle income groups were even increased. If the Government’s objective had really been to reduce the deficit then logically it should have targeted the well-off and middle income groups. If you’re looking for money, don’t go to the poor. This policy reveal that current economic policy is an exercise in power – not in accounting.

The third stage of gangsterism is to get the whole economy dependent upon some substance over which you have monopolistic control and from which you can then cream enormous profit. Twentieth century gangsters used alcohol and then, when that was legalised, drugs. In Gangster Economics the drug on which we’ve all been hooked is debt.

  • Government has allowed banks to create more money, by creating debt.
  • Banks then profit from this new power by taking a slice of their Government granted monopoly
  • Politicians then discover the joy of the housing boom, as interest rates drop house prices grow, along with all the associated debt.
  • Home owners are happy (a ‘popular’ policy in the UK and US with high levels of home ownership) because their house is ‘worth more’ and they vote for the Government.
  • Banks are happy because they can cream off yet more money from higher levels of debt.
  • Banks then discover that they can manufacture new forms of debt, junk bonds, CDOs, synthetics from which they can cream further profits.

I would like to say that, eventually this all came crashing down; but it hasn’t. After a small wobble, the world economy is still doing its crazy debt-ridden dance. The Government keeps it going with Quantitive Easing and, now, 0.25% interest rates. Banks are the drug pushers, government is their backer and protector.

Historically debt has always been the means necessary to create slavery. Debt keeps us obedient and makes us run for protection to the government. Government reassures us and tells us that they will solve the problem, a problem they say that was the fault of the poor, the disabled and the immigrants. It beggars belief that we believe them, but believe them we do.

It is encouraging to see organisations like Positive Money emerge to challenge this nonsense, for social justice will require more than a restored welfare state, it will require new forms of economic policy. I think this will happen, eventually; the current system is just too crazy to survive and, as Adam Smith also said:

“Avarice and injustice are always short-sighted”

The Two Conflicting Forms of Neoliberalism

Neo-liberalism has – I think – two main contrary forms. Often the thinkers who are cited as neoliberals are philosophers like Nozick, who argued for the minimal state and who took as the primary problem to be solved the question: What is the just and fair settlement for any society? This line of thinking goes back, through Mill and Locke, all the way back to the Classical era. It is the same kind of problem that Plato, Aristotle and other genuine political philosophers, have been considering for over two and half thousand years.

Although I can understand why it has acquired the ‘neo’ prefix, I think it is better to see this kind of theory as a modern form of liberalism (in the English sense). It is an attempt to set out the grounds by which diverse people can live together, with justice and with freedom. It is certainly a faulty theory – like perhaps all political theories – but its faults are better understood in the light of what it is genuinely trying to do, rather than simply treating it as all part of the devil’s work. Almost all genuine liberals (of this kind) are forced to adjust their views to reflect the fact that markets do not ensure social justice. Almost all genuine liberals also tend to recognise that my freedom is limited, not just by direct political oppression, but also by my lack of essential resources.

The second form of neoliberalism is the kind of aristocratic prejudice that the ‘best’ should be richer and more powerful than the ‘worst’. Aristocracy means rule by the best and today this has been transmogrified into what is called meritocracy – which sounds like its opposite, but actually means precisely the same thing. What has changed is the nature of the aristocracy – back then it was landed nobles, now it is the children of Eton and Oxford.
The belief of the powerful that they are the best, and so deserve their power, has always been self-serving, and often laughably so. But since Darwin it has taken on a new and more virulent form. Herbert Spencer outlined the relationship between modern theories of race and genetics as follows:

“The law that each creature shall take the benefits and evils of its own nature, be those derived from ancestry or those due to self-produced modifications, has been the law under which life has evolved thus far; and it must continue to the law however much further life may evolve. Whatever qualification this natural course of action may now or hereafter undergo, are qualifications that cannot, without fatal results, essentially change it. Any arrangements which in a considerable degree prevent superiority from profiting by the rewards of superiority, or shield inferiority from the evils it entails – any arrangement which tends to make it as well to be inferior as to be superior; are arrangements diametrically opposed to the progress of organisation and the reaching of a higher life.”

from Herbert Spencer, The Data of Ethics

Spencer, and many other thinkers from that period, successfully connected human and animal nature (or rather a debased and partial account of animal nature) in order to legitimise the abandonment of most of the moral imperatives passed down from Christian (and before that Jewish) civilisation: concern for the welfare of all, the privileged status of the weakest, the need for humility and the imperative of self-control and temperance. All those things that might be seen to ‘redistribute’ resources and energy from the strong to the weak were converted from moral imperatives into corruptions, temptations and threats.

This way of seeing the world reached its peak under Hitler and has gone into hiding since the end of World War II. But it is this aristocratic conceit that underlies much of what now passes as neoliberalism. It is not liberal to encourage genetic engineering by encouraging the abortion of children with disabilities. It is not liberal to concentrate more power in the hands of politicians and corporations. It is not liberal to sanction, bully or coerce people who are out of work. These approaches are not liberal, they are meritocratic.

Distinguishing these two kinds of neoliberalism – the liberal form and the aristocratic form – is strategically important, even for those of us opposed to both forms. First because we cannot easily defeat both forms together – for they have different bases. Second because we miss the opportunity to divide these forces against each other.

Personally I think liberalism, as a defence of freedom, is not our worst enemy. What is an enemy is the kind of one-eyed right-wing economic liberalism that treats the right to property as if it were some kind of divine imperative. But much worse than this is the kind of elitism that believes that ordinary people don’t really need rights, that we’d much better off if disabled people did not exist and that it is acceptable to manipulate the press and media to stigmatise any group that might be helpfully scapegoated.

Meritocratic elitism (which can be found on both the Right and on the Left) should be our main enemy and it may be useful to demonstrate how illiberal and controlling are its advocates.

Customers or Citizens

I put up this little item on Facebook recently and it seemed to strike a chord with lots of people. So I thought I’d share it here.

The other day I received an email asking me to answer some questions about leadership in health and social care by a major service provider. I won’t say which organisation sent me this, as that would possibly be unfair and misrepresent their true intentions. However I did find their questions so peculiar,  and so unremittingly consumerist, that I felt moved to share the questions I was asked, along with my answers:

Dear John

I’m afraid my answers may not be as useful as you’d like, because I suspect I can’t quite see how to frame the challenge quite like that. But here are my answers to your 6 questions:

Q1: The overarching question we are seeking to address is: “How do we consistently lead and deliver high quality, high impact [services] for people that lives up to the brand?”

A1: If we are too concerned about ‘the brand’ then we should be worried about our underlying values. Moreover, largely brands in our sector are complex and contested. e.g. a brand like the ‘Mencap brand’ is not necessarily a ‘good brand’ to which we’d like people to live up.

Q2: How do effective leaders in health and social care ensure that their staff are customer focussed? (Thinking about all people issues, from recruitment, performance management etc..)

A2: Customer-focus in our sector is a deeply unhelpful way of conceptualising what we are doing and why we do it. People are citizens, not customers. People do not shop for human services and they certainly don’t shop for a life. We build a good life together.

Q3: How do effective leaders in health and social care identify what their customers want?

A3: We explore what we want to achieve in life through a process of internal and real world discovery. You are either on that journey with someone or you are not. There are few effective short-cuts and those there are can come at a high cost to your integrity (e.g. misusing person-centred planning).

Q4: How do effective leaders in health and social care measure their customer’s satisfaction?

QA: I suspect that measuring satisfaction is mostly done for effect. It can be useful as part of showing people the value of an innovation, but in normal circumstances it is fraudulent, as the underlying power relations distort the value of the data. True leaders listen and respond, but mostly they empower others to act. Ideally the last thing they want to do is appear as a ‘leader.’

Q5: How do effective leaders ensure consistent quality across an organisation which may span the country?

A5: Top-down control for quality in human services leads to bureaucracy, elitism and managerialism. Its impact is to rob power from the lives of disabled people and those working closely with them. An effective organisation ‘manages’ by liberating innovators, enabling good practice and dealing urgently with real problems when they arise – learning as transparently as possible as they go.

Q6: How would leadership in an organisation which delivers consistent high quality, high impact for people differ from one where this is not achieved?

A6: Such leaders would show humility, facilitate mature conversations and seek to explore how they can improve things further.

I hope that helps.

Best wishes

Simon John Duffy

I am not sure what else to say. However I think this divide, between seeing each other as citizens, or seeing each others as customers, is fundamental. The customer model obviously connects to many modern trends (positive and negative) but it seems such a fundamentally unhelpful way of thinking about disability and human services. The fact that something seems so obviously right to some, while it seems so obviously wrong to others, is indicative of the profoundly paradigmatic issues at stake. I suspect we won’t be able to just explain our way out of this problem. I think we will need to act as citizens in order to show others what citizenship means and what citizenship can do.

Dr Andrew Lucas and Perpetual Life – A Film

I awoke this morning from my dreams with the idea for a film in my head. I am no script-writer and I will never find time to complete this project, so I share it here. If you want to turn it into a film or something else then please be my guest.

A shot of London – subtitle: Year 2166

We pan over London which now appears even shinier, and the streets are full of people celebrating the victory of England in the World Cup. An open top bus (suitably modernised) floats through the crowd. On the top are many familiar faces, including Wayne Rooney and many other members of the current England team.

Now cut to inside St Paul’s Cathedral, where there is a celebratory service going on, again we see the heads of Rooney and his team mates, we also see that the audience is full of beautiful young people, happy and genuinely attentive. They watch a young and handsome Archbishop of Canterbury who is giving a sermon.


“How great is Great Britain! Yet again we are victorious at football. Yet again we prove that, truly, we are building Jerusalem here, in this green and pleasant land.

“And it is here in Britain that the great discoveries have been, the great steps forward in human progress. 400 year ago St Adam Smith uncovered the workings of the market. Only then did men come to understand that progress depends upon selfishness. This revelation then opened up the age of progress, industry and happiness.

“300 years ago St Charles Darwin uncovered the true workings of nature. Now we understand that we are not, directly, creatures of God, but of evolution, and that progress comes from the on-going battle of the strong to overcome the weak.

“Then, just 150 years ago, our living saint, Dr Andrew Lucas, made the next great British discovery.

Cut to an earnest young man sitting amidst the congregation who nods and smiles modestly in recognition of the Archbishop’s comments. Cut back to Archbishop who is continuing with his sermon.

“Dr Lucas has discovered the essence of life itself, the life force, the vital link between physics, chemistry and biology. Lucas has discovered that element of our life blood which makes life possible. Using his discoveries Britain then began its programme of extending Perpetual Life to everyone. The doors of heaven are now truly open.

“All these great discoveries have had to be matched by an evolution in our religion. Today the New Church of England has managed to uproot the heresy of life after death. We’ve gone back to the Bible and demonstrated the real meaning of Christ’s sacrifice. It was not some mysterious life after death that he was offering us – instead it was a message about the real possibility of heaven on earth. Today more and more people are taking advantage of the opportunities of Perpetual Life, as Dr Lucas and his team work to make this new technology available to everyone.

“So, let us thank God for England’s victory in the World Cup. Let us thank God for Dr Lucas and his brilliant discoveries that have made all this possible. And let us thank God for Great Britain, the country that has opened the doors of heaven.”

Congregation enthusiastically clap the Archbishop. The Camera pulls back from St Paul’s and pans to St Thomas’s hospital which is now one of the grandest building along the Thames. We are in a teaching theatre, where junior doctors are being educated, and are being addressed by a beautiful young (female) professor of medicine.

Professor of Medicine:

“Welcome everyone to your first course in the medicine of Perpetual Life. As trained doctors you will already know much of what I am about to show you; but it is always helpful to be reminded of the foundations, that underlie our vital science. So let us begin by watching this short film.”

We now watch the first scenes of an introductory teaching film on Perpetual Life. Suitable documentary images accompany the narration.

Film narration:

“In 2016 UK Parliament began the process of legalising euthanasia (or as it is now called Happy Death). The first step towards Happy Death was to allow people the right to end their life, under medical supervision.

“It was then that a brilliant young doctor, Dr Andrew Lucas, decided to specialise on end of life medicine. At first his programme focused on helping people be genuinely happy as their life ended, new drugs were developed and the process was made not just painless, but pleasurable.

“However, naturally, Dr Lucas also began to wonder whether there might not be other advantages to the Happy Death programme. A dead body can teach us much, a dying body can give up its organs to help others. But what if a living body could give up it’s very life force? What if life itself could be transferred from one individual to another?

“It was this profound insight that opened up the field of Perpetual Life (or PL). Today a willing patient can transfer their life force to another person, to extend their life and even to maintain them in state of perpetual youth and health.

“Dr Lucas himself, as a brave pioneer, first began to carry out these experiments upon himself and so he became the first person to benefit from PL. Then of course he turned to the leading minds of the time to win support. If it was not for the support of Heaven TV and the vision of its owner Mr Rupert Murdoch then his discoveries may have gone to waste. But after joining the PL Programme Mr Murdoch became its primary patron. Leading politicians joined him on the programme, and so his support grew. Today all our leading writers, scientists, film stars and sporting heroes are proud participants in the PL Programme – staying young, living longer and working to build a better world for everyone.

“Of course there are still mysteries to uncover; for just as it took many years to discover DNA, and so explain the truth behind Darwin’s theory of evolution, so we have not yet fully understood the mechanism by which the life force exists.

“Dr Lucas is continuing to work on the development of an artificial version of the life force. He will be successful; but until that time the PL programme must continue to exist in partnership with the Happy Death programme. We still need some people willing to give up their lives, in order to extend the lives of the best, the beautiful and the successful.

“We are also still limited by the constant of life – the 70 years rule. For while the life force can be transferred, the transfer value of life is set at a maximum of 70 years, and varies in accordance with how much life has been sacrificed. Life is extended by 70 minus the years already lived. So this means the most useful lives are those of the youngest.

“So while everybody wants to join the PL Programme we are not yet able to offer everyone the joys of the programme. Instead we must appeal to those who are ill, who are disabled or unhappy. We must offer them the chance to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Fortunately the technology of Happy Death has so improved that many more people are willing to step forward and offer their lives in sacrifice. For many people a few months of extreme happiness is well worth the loss of many years of life.

“Today the systems of Quality Adjusted Life Prices (QALPs) enables people to evaluate their options and to choose to trade in their life for a Happy Death. This is a independent, market-based system, all carefully overseen by NICE (the National Institute for Care Excellence).”

“Life and death has always seemed like a lottery. The best of humanity can be unfairly struck down, while the worst can hang on for decades. Today, thanks to the expertise of doctors like you, thanks to the patronage of Mr Murdoch and Heaven TV and thanks to the good people at NICE, death is being tamed. Death is now fairer and perpetual life is possible for the brightest and the best.”

At this point the film could develop in a number of different ways. Here are three options:

  1. We follow Dr Lucas becoming angrier with himself and with the system he has created, as he discovers, yet again, that he cannot overcome the life constant or develop the life force artificially. The film follows his efforts to pull down the system around himself and the way in which powerful forces within the media, politics and economics will not allow him to do so. [or]
  2. We follow the story of one of the members of the PL community who is finding that they can no longer earn the money necessary to stay on the programme. They become convinced that the high price and limited supply of PL is a plot to enrich the rich. However, by exploring what really happens to those outside the programme, and those on the Happy Death programme he discovers that in fact everything possible is being done to extend PL to as many people as possible (e.g. people are encouraged to give up their babies for HD at birth, people are being paid to join the HD programme, their family are being assured places on the waiting list for the PL programme, mental illness and suicide are being encouraged in low income families.) He then tries to share what he’s learned – but he is discovered and he is forced to join the HD programme himself. [or]
  3. We focus on a revolutionary movement, perhaps based in the North of England (say Sheffield), where people organise to overcome the powerful forces of the PL programme. This could involve a love interest story, where there is love between someone on the PL programme, perhaps in a position of influence, and a terrorist trying to tear the system down. This could also build on the idea that heretical religious groups continue to exist underground, who continue to spread their belief that life is sacred and that everyone is of equal value.

You may have much better ideas about where to take this story. But if you decide to make a film, book or play from this idea, don’t worry I promise not to sue you. However, if you do make any money please donate some to the disability campaigners who are fighting the Assisted Dying Bill:

Mountains, Pyramids and the Fate of Self-Directed Support

For me there is always something special about coming to Glasgow. Setting up Inclusion Glasgow in 1996 was certainly the most wonderful, exciting (if stressful) and ultimately rewarding experience of my working life. I still feel lucky – and a little proud – to have had the chance to do it, and I’m so thankful to those, like John Dalrymple, Julie Murray and Frances Brown, who helped make it possible.

This week I am here as a guest of the Social Care Ideas Factory – a great organisation – that seeks to build networks and innovations to promote social change. They are hosting a 3-day international conference on self-directed support, with the thought-provoking title – We Chose to Climb.

This is the first of four blogs that I committed myself to write in honour of their work and the work of all the participants at the conference.

The conference proposes the idea of climbing mountains as a stimulating metaphor for the task ahead – the twofold task: first, to help each one of us, individually, to make the most of our lives together, and second to develop new community-based approaches, to make self-directed support a reality. These are certainly mountains worth climbing.

And this image got me thinking. It reminded me of some my recent reading, it got me musing about my hopes for self-directed support in Scotland, but it also made me think about some of my fears, about what can happen to good ideas, when circumstances change.

Recently I have been reading about the ancient civilisations of the Fertile Crescent and Egypt, and of the birth of the Jewish faith. Mountains played a very important role in the experience of all these people. The mountain was a place where man could approach God, as Moses did at Horeb and at Sinai; and we find the same imagery in the Greek myths. Not only did the Greek gods live on top of Mount Olympus, Hesiod tells us that there was even a special god, Ether, who was present in the luminous fog, that hid the mountain tops. Mountains seem to symbolise both the presence, the greatness and the mystery of the divine.

In this light it is interesting that one of the most ancient structures was the Ziggurat – which seemed to serve as a kind of man-made alternative to the mountain. Not only does this bring the mountain down to size, it also tends to make access to God a matter of social and political organisation. Mountains are democratic – they will accept anyone prepared to climb them. Ziggurats, one suspects, were not open to all-comers.

Certainly the story of the Tower of Babel – Babylon – is the story of earthly hubris – man trying to reach God under his own power. It is also perhaps no accident that the downfall of the tower is the result of conflict and human diversity. The Egyptian pyramid took the ziggurat one step further. Instead of a platform by which the priest can meet God, the pyramid is a resting place for the dead Pharaoh-god. And the pyramid remains the classic symbol of political order, representing hierarchy and stability – it even adorns the US dollar bill.

The Jewish people of course rejected this deathly order. For them God could never be ‘brought down to earth’ in this way. For them the mountains of Sinai, Horeb and ultimately of Jerusalem itself, were symbols, not just of God’s transcendence, but also of our ultimate equality. We can all climb the mountain; no king, priest or leader can stand in our place.

Arguably, Jesus took this one step further. We are all lit by the divine light. Each of us can climb the mountain by ensuring that our light is held up high: “No one, when he has lit a lamp, puts it in a cellar or under a basket, but on a stand, that those who come in may see the light.” [Luke 11:33]

But what has all this symbolism and theology got to do with self-directed support in Scotland? Something I think.

The proper purpose of self-directed support – why we chose to climb – was to ensure that each person, even if they have an impairment, even if they need assistance – can lead a life of meaning and value. Self-directed support is an assertion of human equality and of our rich human potential.

Yet self-directed support is also an attempt to wrestle power from a deeply hierarchical and meritocratic system. Often the hierarchy seem to win. Here are a few examples of what I mean:

  1. Recently I have been doing some research into how idea that I first developed in Glasgow – Individual Service Funds – is being implemented in practice. Essentially an ISF is a simple innovation, it means that a service provider (and that term can be defined very broadly) acts as an intermediary for the person and helps them organise the support they need – flexibly and creatively. Yet, in practice, not only has take-up for this way of working been pitifully low (1% of all funding is spent in this way in England) it has also been bogged down in bureaucracy. For instance, many providers are contracted to work to a support plan that must be signed off by a social worker – the very opposite of the original concept.
  2. In addition, ideas like person-centred planning, which were originally brilliant innovations, that helped people to think creatively, have now been turned into mandated, mechanical processes – now everyone must now have their own person-centred plan. The original idea has been converted from a tool of personal liberation into yet another government controlled system. This does not stimulate creativity or empowerment; it merely enriches those who are in the business of planning, training or facilitating plans. A gift of great minds has been turned, by government, into something grubby.
  3. Standing further back, in England, self-directed support – or as it has now been renamed – personalisation, remains the official policy for ‘reforming’ adult social care. Yet, in the last four years adult social care has been cut by 30% with 500,000 fewer people now receiving care. So what does it mean to reform a system which is being cut like this? It is not encouraging.
  4. Lastly, we have seen personal health budgets (PHBs), proposed as a reform to transform the NHS. This seems such a promising idea. For example, anyone who has seen the poor state of mental health services, to pick just one area, must want to see self-directed support be extend into the NHS. Yet, with privatisation and means-testing growing, will the extension of PHBs not quickly lead to an acceleration in topping-up and other invidious practices? Soon the best piece of the UK’s welfare system – free and universal high quality healthcare – might be eroded into a quasi-insurance system where people are encouraged to take out additional insurance to guarantee faster access, better care or ‘for the good of all.’ This was certainly not the purpose of self-directed support.

This is how mountains are turned into pyramids. Ideas that were developed in the name of equality and of justice, can be uprooted and put to other uses. It seems so hard to fight City Hall.

Yet we should not despair.

While neoliberalism and austerity do appear to be winning, they are in truth, feeble foes. There is nothing inevitable about their success.

However, it will take new kinds of strategies to protect the mountain; and I think that events like tomorrow’s conference show us what is necessary if we are to climb mountains, rather than be crushed by pyramids.

  1. First of all, this event is about all of us – as equals – figuring out alternatives together. Our current problems exist because we’ve allowed power to become concentrated in the hands of too few. Together we have the wit and intelligence to challenge ourselves to take back that power. This means overcoming old barriers and distinctions – the divisions by which we are ruled – but we can do this.
  2. Second, self-directed support, even done imperfectly, still works. Its power and impact makes it very difficult for bureaucratic inertia to win the day. If we can continue to make practical progress, then, in a few years, it will seem outrageous that we allowed disabled people to sold and re-tendered like slaves; it will seem extraordinary that we did not support families and disabled people to be in control of their own support; and it will seem absurd that so much of the voluntary sector was tied down in red-tape, contracts and regulations.
  3. Finally, this event is in Scotland and Scotland has woken up to the fact that it is a democracy. It does not need to leave power where it is. Power can be reclaimed – in fact when the current elite so obviously lacks legitimacy in Scotland – taking back power is just a matter of time. I am sure a modern Scotland will begin to ask some very sharp questions about the kind of welfare state that is currently on offer and will start to move to something more in accordance with the principles of social justice.

Positive change is never inevitable; but the mountain will always overshadow the pyramid.

The Liberal Fallacy or Yet Another Argument for Basic Income

Liberalism, or neoliberalism, has many flaws but we don’t always focus on its biggest flaw.

You can see this flaw most obviously once you accept one of the most important axiom’s of liberal economics: if prices are flexible then the market will clear.

But what does that mean?

Well let’s begin with a simple example:

Farmers come to the market in order to sell their harvest. Shoppers go to the market in order to buy their food. The price is whatever money is exchanged for the goods. Now, if prices are flexible, then we can expect all the goods to be sold – the market will be ‘cleared’. When shoppers compete to buy some rarer item then its price will rise. When sellers compete to offload a less popular item then its price will drop. Eventually everything, even the most unattractive item should be sold as the price approaches zero.

Now the most obvious flaw in this account is that real markets don’t work like this:

The day finishes, and some goods are left over, even when there has been heavy discounting at the end of the day. This might be for all sorts of practical reasons – perhaps fewer people came to the market that day etc. But also the seller does not always accept the logic of liberal economics. He might insist on holding to his notion of a fair price – whatever the market conditions. Like the grandfather in Halldór Laxness’ The Fish Can Sing, who always sells his fish at the same price: On a day when there is high demand for fish he does not increase his price – he simply sells his ‘bargain’ fish quickly. On a day when demand is low he may not even sell his fish at all.

So, real markets are not like the pure markets of economics, not just because of the complexities of reality, but also because some people simply refuse to bend to the idea that the market should set the price. For the liberal this is a kind of irrationality: how can the fish have a value outside of the market mechanism? If nobody will pay your ‘fair price’ how can you imagine that this is its true value?

The liberal is competing with an older view (certainly the medieval view) that things really do have a fair price. And this is probably linked to Aristotle’s way of looking at things. Within the Aristotelian tradition all things have their true essence – their meaning or their value – which the wise can discern. But too often we see only the accidental properties of a thing – their semblance or their price. Within this tradition the market can no more measure value than the fool can find truth.

It seems to me that this debate about value has been at the heart of politics and society for some centuries. Liberals are modernists. The notion of an essential value is, for them, a fiction. Only the social mechanism of the market gives things a price. This may be sad and unromantic, they argue, but, for example ‘Your house is only really worth what someone is willing to pay.’ And unattractive as this is in some respects, as an argument it does have a certain power.

Today we can see these two competing perspectives playing out in the debate between those want to see greater market flexibility in wages, versus those who want to see greater rigidity, for example by the application of minimum wages, living wages or stronger employment rights. The liberal argues that, whatever the apparent disadvantages of zero-hours contracts, self-employment or reduced employment rights, any increased flexibility will improve market efficiency and so does benefit society in the long-run.

Liberalism may be rational but it is certainly unrealistic. Real markets don’t clear and real people certainly don’t behave ‘rationally’. In fact we all turn out to be a strange mixture of the modern and the medieval. When house prices went up by 360% in 11 years we became liberals, enjoying (if we owned a house!) the ‘rising housing market.’ [Interestingly this kind of jargon reveals exactly our confusion, for markets don’t rise or fall – they are just spaces.] But now that bubble seems ready to burst we have all turned medieval. We want the Government to bail us out and defend the ‘value’ of our house and to ensure that we don’t lose out from our own bad investments. Our sense of the fair price for our own home seems wonderfully flexible as long as its direction is upwards.

We are liberals when it suits us. Bubbles make fools of us all.

But this debate between fair-value and market-value is a sideshow; it does not reveal the essential flaw in liberalism. It cannot lead to any helpful answers to the fundamental questions of social justice.

The essential flaw in liberalism is much simpler – there is nothing in the market that will ensure the seller will get enough – enough to live on, enough to thrive, enough to support their citizenship. Market’s don’t care, they are not moral, they are not fair and they don’t need to ensure the survival of those who ‘come to the market.’

A flexible labour market certainly benefits employers, especially if they need to compete on price with organisations in countries who have much lower labour costs. Investors certainly prefer the cost of labour to be controlled or reduced employment securities. This reduces their liabilities.

But whatever benefits a flexible labour market offers to employers or investors, it still does not ensure that people will have enough to live on. Like the canny shopper, waiting until the end of market day, to see what price the unsold bananas might fall to, the employer knows that, when the seller is desperate enough, they will be able to buy the labour they need, at almost any price.

The essential flaw in liberalism is that, by its very logic, it will never provide a decent and secure income for citizens. To do so would be to undermine the market itself.

Of course, those who campaign for increased minimum wages or a living wage know all this. But they are forced to deploy the medieval argument – which while is attractive in many ways – is also fraught with many problems. They have been drawn onto the enemy’s territory. Their motivation is good, but perhaps their strategy is wrong. They seek to mitigate the market’s inevitable injustices, but they thereby accept that the regulation of the price of labour is the proper means of reducing social injustice. This brings with it a host of problems.

By arguing about prices we are arguing on the liberal’s territory. Instead, we must, as the Chinese say, lure the tiger from the mountains. We must start with need and justice.

This is how we can strike at the heart of the liberal fallacy. For, if the market cannot deliver fair and secure incomes for all, then perhaps so we must abandon the market for that purpose. Instead we must secure our basic income or our citizen’s income socially and politically. We must agree together what is fair, and distribute to each other the necessary resources for our basic or citizen’s income.

This is not to abandon the market for all purposes. It is to put the market in its place (in a more humble place – a secondary place). The market cannot ensure that we each have enough. So let us stop trying to make it. Instead we must create real income security together – we set a basic income and ensure that each citizen gets it. We must fix what is fair together and then we can let the labour market help us distribute our gifts and our talents between each other – at prices we are free to set ourselves.

This strategy has two further advantages over the mitigation of the market strategy which is currently being deployed by our allies.

First, it just lets the market do what is does do well – connect people’s needs to other people’s gifts. Price flexibility (once our basic income is secured) is a boon, not just to employers, but to employees, not just to customers but also to producers. If I love to write poetry, but the going rate for poetry is low, then I can sell myself cheaply, while knowing that I am doing what I really value. If I choose to do something that few others seem to value, like cleaning toilets, I can demand a higher price for my labour. We are free to decide what is important to us – in both buying labour and selling labour. We are no longer at the mercy of the market.

Second, we start to breakdown the illusion that the market can value us. Today we are constantly being told that all sorts of people are worth more than the rest of us and so are deservedly entitled to whatever salaries they award themselves – be they bankers, politicians, footballers or whoever. The price we pay for this exploitation of markets by the powerful is not only economic, it is spiritual. We are only too likely to believe the nonsensical idea that some banker is ‘worth more’ than some other person – perhaps the toilet cleaner. Constantly we forget what a proper understanding of economics can always teach us – there is no real relationship between value and price: water is cheap; diamonds are expensive; but it is water that we need to live.

Perhaps it is time to put the market in perspective. It is not a demon, it is not a saviour. It is just a useful tool for any society that understands that we are each worth infinitely more than our price in the labour market and that markets don’t take care of us – they never will. Only we can take care of us.

Ideal Markets or Real Markets

In public policy we use the word ‘market’ in radically different ways and in fundamentally inconsistent ways.

For the liberal (or if you prefer, neoliberal) the word ‘market’ is used to describe a special kind of human interaction – the ‘free exchange of goods or services at an agreed price’. The beauty of this liberal vision lies in the market’s seemingly magical ability to achieve three wonderful things at the same time:

  • It is a place of freedom – free individuals come together to bargain and exchange
  • It is a place of community – people make promises to each other and bind each other by contracts
  • It is a place of productivity – time, energy and money flow into the places which have the most value.
Of course, this vision of the market is just a beautiful ideal. In the real world:
  • The starting point is not fair, and advantages accrue to those already advantaged, and so freedom turns into exploitation.
  • When relationships of power are radically unequal then the community we create is atomised and elitist.
  • The most productive is not always the best; commerce can destroy nature, community, industry and even politics itself (as we are finding out to our cost in the UK).
And most liberals do know this. The market is their ideal, but they accept that in many areas there will be what they call ‘market failure’ and – for various reasons – it is recognised that the ideal market cannot really exist. So they will – to varying degrees – accept that markets must be controlled or an alternative system offered in their place. The market is for the liberal a ‘Platonic ideal’ – it may not be fully realisable – but we should strive towards it and use it evaluate the real.

Thus economics becomes the measure of man, not man the measure of economics.

Of course there are those who do not worship the market. These anti-liberals include socialists and conservatives. This may seem a surprising alliance and we often forget that there used to be a very different kind of conservative (small c) philosophy – one that valued King, country, religion, the local and the small. But this kind of conservatism now has nothing to do with the UK’s Conservative party. The Conservative party is now the leading ‘liberal’ party and it is no longer in the business of ‘conserving’ anything at all – except perhaps the interests of the rich and the powerful.

The anti-liberal thinks of the market not as a space but as a force:

  • The financial market is a malevolent force selling fraudulent products or gambling with our savings.
  • The housing market is crazy bubble where our own greed drives up prices to the benefit only of those who can escape it at the right point.
  • Markets drive the growth of monopolies, big business and the industrialisation of almost everything – markets even seem to kill the possibility of markets.
Of course socialists and conservatives also will accept the need for markets. Only the most zealous want to control food production, everyday shopping or enterprise. But the market is, for them, not an ideal space, but a demon, to be controlled and harnessed. At best its energy provides other resources and so it can be taxed to support the things the anti-liberal really values.

Until the 1990s the battle between the liberal and the anti-liberal was largely fought on the margin of the sphere of public services. Markets were for private goods and services; when it came to public services it was the state that was in control. There was a disagreement about what should be nationalised and what should be left free – but no disagreement that nationalisation meant – ‘outside the market’.

But this has now changed radically. Today it is quite common to hear people talk about markets for public services: the social care market, the healthcare market, the market for social housing. However these markets rarely have any of the qualities that the liberal associates with markets. It is not people, making free decisions, who buy these services – it is commissioners or governments. Here the word ‘market’ takes on a third meaning – roughly – ‘the stuff we spend public money on’.

So we are left with three entirely different and contradictory meanings for the term market:

  1. A space within which free, contractual and efficient exchanges can take place – the idealised market
  2. A force which can redistribute, steal or exploit resources and power – the demonised market
  3. An array of objects, services or products, perhaps purchased by the state or its agent – the phoney market
Of course when a word is so used and abused it is easy to lose patience and to simply abandon the whole concept. What is the value of the word ‘market’ when it means three contradictory things?
However I would like to make the case for a fourth use of the term – I would like to make the case for the market as an ‘agora’ – a free, protected and public space where a whole range of human activities can be carried out. The agora is not primarily economic – it is simply the space the community needs to collaborate and to work together. Business can be done there, but it is not defined by business.
I was very struck a few years ago to find, on a visit to Athens, that the ancient agora had been marked off by sacred stones. The purpose of these stones was to protect the agora from the private – from the invasion of the sacred space by people’s desire to extend their houses or gardens. It was sacrilege to privatise the market – the market was public property – divinely blessed.
What is more the agora was not just for shopping. The agora was for every kind of public business. The school master taught his students; philosophers sat on the stoa, a shaded area on the edge of the agora (hence stoics); government officers worked and ran meetings; and temples operated. The agora is messy and human – lots of stuff goes on – out in the public square. The agora even housed the building for weights and measures – the system for checking on cheats – for ‘regulating the market’.
Interestingly the agora excluded the Acropolis (the centre of religious life), the assembly which met on the Pnyx (the centre of political power) and the Areopagus (the centre of justice). Each of these institutions was based on one of the hills looking down over the agora from on high.
Perhaps it is time to leave the idealised, demonised and phoney markets behind us. Perhaps it is time to work out how to protect and cherish real markets – the agora – those essential public arenas in which we do stuff together.

Today these place will not just be physical – they will also be virtual – but they are essential. Without the agora we cannot be fully human.

What is Neoliberalism Good For?

It would be fair to say that the world of politics seems to be dominated by an ideology that we in the UK call liberalism and which argues for the primacy of freedom and the pursuit of individual happiness. This is an influential theory; but one that is full of paradoxes and perversities.

The most obvious is that we can’t even agree what to call it.

On the other side of the Atlantic liberalism means, roughly, what we would call Left-wing.

On this side of the Atlantic we use the term either to describe the thoughts of the centrist political party we now call the Liberal Democrats, or the entirely different theoretical tradition championed by sections of the Conservative Party – which is also sometimes called Thatcherism.

How confusing!

Many on the Left now call it neoliberalism – although I’ve never been able to distinguish ‘new liberalism’ from ‘old liberalism’. Perhaps neoliberalism is just code for the version of completely batty extreme Right-wing liberalism that nobody could believe in.

Usually, if someone is talking about neoliberalism they refer to Robert Nozick’s Anarchy, State and Utopia. But when I studied this very interesting book I got the sense that the author himself didn’t really believe his own theory. The whole thing is an elegant reductio ad absurdam of his own position. It seemed to be designed half in jest; moreover a few years later he outlined a very different theory in The Examined Life.

Even those radical Republicans who use liberal arguments are only half serious. Take for instance the Republican satirist, P J O’Rourke, who summarises his position thus:

The other secret to balancing the budget is to remember that all tax revenue is the result of holding a gun to somebody’s head. Not paying taxes is against the law. If you don’t pay your taxes, you’ll be fined. If you don’t pay the fine you’ll be jailed. If you try to escape from jail, you’ll be shot. Thus, I – in my role as citizen and voter – am going to shoot you – in your role as taxpayer and ripe suck – if you do not pay your share of the national tab. Therefore, every time the government spends money on anything, you have to ask yourself, “Would I kill my kindly, gray haired mother for this?” In the case of defence spending, the argument is simple: “Come on Ma, everybody’s in this together. If those Canadian hordes come down over the border, we’ll all be dead meat. Pony up.” In the case of helping cripples, orphans and blind people, the argument is almost as persuasive: “Mother, I know you don’t know these people from Adam, but we’ve got five thousand years of Judeo-Christian-Muslim-Buddhist-Hindu-Confucian-animist-jungle-God morality going here. Fork over the dough.” But day care doesn’t fly: ”You’re paying the next-door neighbour’s baby-sitter, or its curtains for you, Mom.” 

P J O’Rourke, Parliament of Whores, p.100

In other words, neoliberalism is secondary to “Judeo-Christian-Muslim-Buddhist-Hindu-Confucian-animist-jungle-God morality” which is another way of saying that there are much more important and truthful ideas than liberalism.

The point is that even many of the extreme advocates of neoliberalism don’t really pretend to take their own theory that seriously. Nobody but a lunatic would think that just pursuing your own selfish goals is a sensible way to think about your own purpose or about the well-being of society.

So if neoliberals don’t believe in neoliberalism, who does?

I think the paradoxical answer is that only the opponents of neoliberalism really believe in neoliberalism – but they believe in it negatively. It serves the same rhetorical purpose on the Left as a term like communist does on the Right. It is also socially helpful; if you are of the Left then you are united by your opposition to neoliberalism. It is not so much a straw man as a straw enemy.

Now I need to be careful here.

I am not suggesting that there are not plenty of greedy or self-interested people in the world. There are plenty. There are also corporate bodies that behave in ways that are motivated by avarice and which are profoundly damaging to our society.

Greed is real and greed is not good. Corruption is very real.

And I know that there are a few people who believe in the ravings of Ayn Rand or the musings of Robert Nozick. Although I don’t think these people are the ones we really have to worry about.

In my view neoliberalism has never been a coherent or attractive theory. What it is, is a bag of rhetorical devices that can be deployed to protect the interests of powerful elites. It offers rhetorical tropes – phrases and concepts – which if unexamined – lend depth to the self-serving policies of the powerful. But these devices not really rooted in liberalism – instead they take genuine moral concepts but twist them into narrow concepts in order serve their own selfish ends:

  • Our desire for freedom is whittled down to consumerism
  • Citizenship loses its meaning and is reduced to vain individualism
  • Virtue is emptied of real content and just becomes responsibility – looking after your own
  • Community becomes a market, and a particularly uninteresting kind of market
  • Government becomes the state, not something we do together, just an external device to keep us all in order

The rhetorical device works because it is starts with in something valuable. But the valuable concepts are not the concepts of liberalism. Something good is being suggested; yet by the time we find out what the liberal means by freedom, citizenship or virtue we are left with something toxic.

In practice the rhetoric of liberalism is useful to those who use it because it encourages people to leave well alone:

  • Why would you want to rule yourselves? Leave that to us.
  • Why would you want a community or public goods? Private goods are good enough for you.
  • Don’t worry about freedom. Why not go shopping instead?
  • Don’t worry about virtue. Just pay your taxes; we’ll do the rest.

Don’t worry leave it to us, leave it to the market, leave it to our contractors – we know just the man for the job.

Neoliberalism is not neutral – it turns out there are a whole class of people who get the job of running the minimal state, the markets and the corporations.

Perhaps I should join in the attack on neoliberalism. I have certainly had lots of good people telling me that I am foolish for not understanding its power or the threat that it presents. Perhaps it is naive of me to think that I shouldn’t have to attack a stupid theory – one in which no one but a fool would believe.

But I can’t believe attacking straw enemies is good for us. It seems to me that we run the risk of giving life to a monster – wasting our energy fighting something which does not really exist. And gross enemies sometimes get in the way of really examining what we are fighting for.

Meanwhile we fail to notice the way in which power and control is centralised in the hands of political and commercial elites – not because they believe in neoliberalism – but because they are greedy and arrogant – and because we have let them get away with it.

© 2017 Simon Duffy

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑